Symbiotic Love
by SymbioteMaskLover
Summary: The night the meteor landed in Brockwood Park three lonely people's lives changed forever.
For eons the thing had traveled, crossing vast oceans of space like a message in a bottle. It was small - only eight inches across. Not even the most zealous astronomers would have cared about it even if they had seen it - and if they did conventional knowledge would have told them it would burn up before ever reaching the ground. After all that's what meteors normally did.

Of course this wasn't an ordinary meteor...

Careening through the stratosphere it ignited into a brilliant ball of red-orange flame, tearing through the air at impossible speeds. The ground rose to meet it, and with a quick, dull THUD it buried itself into the soil, the heat of the impact igniting the nearby grass. As it sat there it glowed with a fierce light like a beacon in the night, but as the evening air caressed it cooled, changing color from orange, to red, then a darker red, and finally black.

For a moment it just sat there unmoving - as rocks usually do. Its glossy obsidian-like surface reflected the light of the nearly-full moon. Minutes crept by and its luster slowly began to fade until all that remained was a plain, brittle looking hunk of stone. Thin cracks began to form at the object's crown and slowly creeped downwards. Before it even got halfway the top half caved and the cracking stopped. The broken pieces quickly disintegrated in a pool of black liquid - a glossy tar-like substance that shimmered with the same light meteor did moments ago.

Again, for a moment everything was still.

...

The pool shuddered, its viscous surface bulging and shifting like a sleeping animal. A single tendril, like a stretchy claw, leapt from the surface and gripped the rim of the now bowl shaped meteor. It strained, trying to pull itself free from its prison. As it did so it began to stretch and separate, the weight of gravity working strongly against it. Just as it was about to slide back into the goo, another tendril shot out, bracing its brother and enabling it to pull its mass out even further.

Another tendril leaped, then another, than another. Soon the whole pool was slowly being lifted out of the cavity, clambering in all directions like it couldn't decide which way to go. One portion of it started to spill over the side, and as it did so it's mass separated from the rest, tearing itself away and tumbling over the lip and landing with a plop.

The rest of the creature seemed to notice the sudden separation, and the two halves of what remained started to pull apart as well. It strained and strained, splitting down the middle until all that held it together were a few taut strands. With one last tug the two halves snapped apart, and both masses landed at the foot of their long-time home with an ungraceful splat.

Wasting no time the three aliens bolted from the scene. They slinked through the grass feverishly grasping at whatever purchase they could find. Primal instinct drove them, each one craving only one thing - and they could sense that this planet was full of potentials that were both able AND willing. One went north towards the tree line, disappearing quickly into the underbrush. Another went southeast towards a pathway thirty feet away. The third made its way to a nearby manhole and quickly slid through the gaps on the metal surface and into the sewers below.

The hunt was on, all that remained was silence.

Across the city three people were going about their lives.

In a suburban home many miles away, a community college student browsed the internet. Propping his head with his palm he scrolled through page after page of his google image search. On the screen were pictures of beautiful women clad in a myriad of skin tight outfits: costumes for characters like Spider-Gwen, Black Cat, and Harley Quinn among others. He'd been looking at these images for hours. He fantasized what it would be like to know them, wondered if they dressed like that for their boyfriends - or girlfriends. Did they lie in bed together and talk? What were their likes and dislikes? What was it like to love them?

Reaching across his desk he grabbed a tissue and unzipped his jeans with a resigned sigh.

In another suburban house clear across town was another young man fresh out of high school. He stood in front of a mirror, naked save for his briefs and a bra stuffed and fit as snug as possible across his chest. His parents wouldn't let him grow his hair out, but he'd managed to sneak in a wig which he wore and draped over his front to hide the seams of his make-shift disguise. He made a half-hearted pose, the excitement and arousal of the transgressive act overriding his crippling anxiety. For the briefest of moments he truly felt like someone else, but he couldn't figure out who that person was.

While searching his brain for an answer a knock on the door startled him from his daze, forcing him to hurriedly stuff the garments in his hamper away from view.

In the Dean Perkin's Psychiatric Hospital a young woman, barely old enough to drink, curled up next to the window of her cell. It had been two weeks since they brought here in - the third time this year. They'd cut off most of her hair, which was understandable since she'd tried to choke herself with it earlier that week. The drug-induced haze made it hard for her to concentrate, but at least it made the voices stop. The sickness had become a fact of life, and even though she'd occasionally feel the paranoia seep back in she was grateful for the brief reprieve from her constant suffering. Still, underneath it all she secretly yearned for a manic high she knew wouldn't - and shouldn't come.

Wrapping her arms around her knees she glanced up at the moon, counting the hours until morning when her parents would pick her up.

Back in the park the remains of the meteor sat there, cold and empty. With its passengers having vanished into the night the makeshift craft had finally served its purpose. All at once it shattered, crumbling into a heap and disintegrating until the hole it left was completely filled. The only evidence of the crash that remained was a patch of bare dirt and the singed tips of the grass around it.


End file.
